The Murder House
by kcsmutstation
Summary: Fear is healthy, but panic is deadly. Caroline Forbes would know, she's dead— sort of. But the man that haunts her, he definitely is. / "You see, love. We can only materialise in the rooms we were murdered in and you, sweetheart, you happen to have made yourself awful cozy in mine. What do they call it nowadays? Fate?" Klaroline. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n — **is it bad that this was inspired by The Simpsons?

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She loved — _loves_ — her mother. That's why she's doing this. That's why she's ruining her life.

"Just three months, Caroline," she hears her say, "it's only three months."

Rolling her eyes, she places her old pink teddy bear into one of the thousand cardboard boxes. She frowns and uses her pointer finger to push the piece of ear back into place. It falls the second she releases it and looks around her empty room. She huffs out her cheeks and rubs her hands along her knees before standing up. The bright pink walls blur to tatty blue wallpaper with random silver patterns sprawled across it. She looks around her new room with her lips pursed.

"That all of them, Carebear?"

"Yeah, thanks dad," she smiles half-heartedly at him as he sets the final box down. It's official, no going back now.

"Great! We'll see you at six for dinner then?" _we_; him, Steven and Scarlet. She crinkles her nose and flops down on the bed. If her mother hadn't made her promise to be nice then she would've slammed the door in his face — because _no_, she doesn't want to have dinner with her father and his boyfriend and the daughter that he left her for — but she smiles and nods because she never breaks her word.

Once alone, she falls back onto the — _her_ — bed and covers her face with a pillow. It feels soft and fluffy and the bed is extremely comfortable which makes her groan loudly. But for a second she can't think about the fact she was forced to move to a town in the middle of nowhere or how awkward the 'family' dinner will be or if her cell phone has reception or if her clothes will all fit in the wardrobe because, for that one second, she could've sworn someone sniffed her hair.

Of course there is no one there when she looks, but eyes can be deceiving can't they?

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Forks scrape plates and the news plays on in the background; something about upcoming storms— _go figure_. She'd have to come right in the middle of a massive freaking storm. No wifi— oh lord, why must you torture her this way?

"So, Care," oh, don't call her that. You're not allowed to call her that. "How do you like the place?" Is he referring to the creepy old mansion they are currently residing in? The one with the windows that don't open and creaking doors? The one with so many rooms you get lost trying to find your own feet? The one where she's on the other side of the house to everyone — "I know how you teenagers like your privacy." — so they most probably won't hear her if she screams?

"It's lovely, Steven," she smiles sarcastically then shoves a forkful of potato into her mouth. Scarlet snorts.

"Well, I'm glad you like it," he nods politely, "I'm sure you'll settle in just fine once you've made some friends at school."

"Can't wait," she replies. Bill sends her a warning look from across the table and she sticks out her tongue at him. His lips twitch but he covers it up quickly. That's her father; Mr. primp and proper.

This 'holiday' is going to be so much fun.

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She slams the door — not that they'd hear it from all the way across the house — and flops down on her bed, resuming her position from before, except this time she screams into the pillow. Her agitation is getting on her own nerves. She misses her friends already. Removing the pillow, she picks up her mobile phone from the bedside locker and flips it open. No bars. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Pushing herself from the bed with her knuckles, she holds the phone above her head and goes from being on her tip-toes to bending down to the ground trying to get signal. Groaning in frustration, she tosses her phone into one of the boxes, grabs her toothbrush and heads to the bathroom. The blue, blue bathroom. Matches her mood.

After efficiently scrubbing her teeth she heads toward her bed, removing her blouse in the process. The white fabric plops to the floor and her blue, blue jeans follow. She stretches her stiff — from stress, no doubt — limbs. She looses the cherry bra next. Half-heartedly pulling her summer nightdress over her head, she collapses onto the soft bed and stares at the ceiling. And she remembers. She remembers the 'good old days' where her mother and father would fight over who could push her on the swing and she'd tell them it didn't matter because they were both rubbish anyway. She remembers the proud smile her father would give her when she'd recite whatever the top story was in the newspaper that day to the neighbours from memory. She remembers when he left. He took her to a stable where she petted every single pony at least once because she didn't want to discriminate— because _that would be mean, daddy, and I don't like when people are mean._ She remembers the orange lollipop she held on the bench where she cried because her daddy was leaving her— she remembers never going there again.

"Motherfucking ponies," she snorts and closes her eyes. Her subconscious tells her to ignore what sounds like a chuckle.

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One word; school. Puppy dog eyes couldn't even save her from this— and that's saying something because they never failed her before.

"Hello I'm—" Picture perfect smile in place and emergency lipstick in reachable distance. Good, _good_.

"Caroline Forbes." The secretary deadpans.

"—new. Oh, yeah. How'd you know?" She tilts her head and the brunette rolls her eyes.

"It's kind of my job," she inspects her perfectly polished nails — Caroline wonders if there even is a salon in Mystic Falls and how soon she can be there — and tosses a bundle of papers at the blonde. Caroline clutches them, narrows her eyes and walks away.

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English, Maths and Spanish pass quickly. She receives stares from _everyone_. Because apparently no one moves to Mystic Falls. Like, ever. She sits alone at lunch— for the most part. Eats her cheese sandwich slowly then gobbles up her yogurt— almost.

"You'll get indigestion." A brunette sits on the stool on the opposite side of the lunch table. Caroline purses her lips then shoves another spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. "Just sayin'." The brunette nibbles on her own salad sandwich. "I'm Katherine by the way."

"Caroline." She studies the newcomer curiously. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She drawls and Katherine's lips twitch.

"You looked lonely," she shrugs, "thought I'd do you a favour."

"How kind of you." Caroline eyes her suspiciously. They continue to eat in silence for a few — _peaceful_ — seconds.

"So, how are you finding Mystic Falls?" Katherine asks.

"Fine," Caroline offers her a smile. "The school's pretty clean but my house is really creepy." Katherine perks up at this.

"Oh, you have to tell me what it's like!" She gushes and Caroline raises an eyebrow.

"What what's like?" The blonde questions.

"You know." Katherine tilts her head while nodding.

"No, Katherine. I don't know." She sighs.

"Oh, c'mon you _know_." Katherine grins cheekily then furrows her eyebrows at Caroline's expression. "You don't know?" Caroline shakes her head and Katherine takes a big bite of her sandwich.

"What?" Caroline demands. Katherine silently chews a tomato. "Katherine, tell me!"

"You're living in the murder house."

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She paces Scarlet's room, Scarlet's blue eyes follow the blonde's movement. The clock ticks in the background and the fire spits loudly. Scarlet rolls her eyes, leans forward and slams the book in her hand shut.

"Okay, out with it."

"This girl, Katherine, said this was, and I quote, 'the _murder_ house'," Caroline's eyes dramatically bulge with the word.

"I know," the brunette smirks, "cool, isn't it?"

"Co—" Caroline gapes, "_Cool_?! Did you listen to a word I just said?!"

"Oh calm down, would you?" Scarlet sits back in her chair with a yawn.

"Calm down? Seriously?!" The blonde demands.

"I'll only tell you the story if you sit back and have a Kit-Kat," she sings and Caroline growls before hesitantly plopping onto one of the red armchairs. She crosses her arms over her chest and gestures with her eyebrows for Scarlet to continue. "Okay, so, thousands of years ago, y'know when people had _really_ long hair and the guys wore skirts and their animals lived in people's houses and—"

"Scarlet." Caroline deadpans.

"Well, anyway, way back then there was a family that lived in this house, or hut or whatever it was called back then, and they were like," Scarlet rotates her finger around her ear, "insanely whacked up in the head. Their father wanted to make them immortal so he made his wife perform this spell, because she was a witch—"

"Of course she was," Caroline sighs.

"She called upon the ancient white oak, that was used to build this house, for life. But it didn't work the way he expected. She ended up binding them to the house and when they sacrificed the children as they slept — blood sacrifice, cool huh? — they didn't come back to life like they were suppose to. No, their bodies laid murdered for their neighbours to find," Scarlet raises her eyebrows with a smile and Caroline blinks at her.

"Is that it?" she asks

"It is said that even though their bodies were moved, their souls stayed to play," the brunette leans back into her chair and opens her book again.

"So, we're basically being haunted by crazy people," Caroline nods and throws her hands out by her side then heads for the door, "great." What she doesn't notice is the figure that sits in the chair she had just occupied.

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	2. Chapter 2

**a/n —** I watched American Horror Story: Murder House (as I said I seriously had this based off of The Simpsons). That shit is awesome.

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Her bed creaks as she pounces on it. She has had an emotionally and physically (that school may look small but once you're lost you are _lost_) exhausting day and could really do with a massage right about now.

She lets out a long sigh and pulls a pillow over her head. She misses her cold, detached mother.

"Caroline." A soft voice echoes near her ear.

"Hmm?"

"Look out." She furrows her eyebrows and sits up.

"Wha—" She screams as an arrow lodges itself into the pillow she just had over her head.

...What the _fuck_?

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"—and it just came out of freaking _no_where! A motherfucking arrow, dad! Made of actual wood! And it is beyond unsafe to have a child on their own in this side of the house— you said you didn't even _hear me scream!_ And I was loud, trust—"

"Caroline."

"What?" She watches him shake his head and crinkle his forehead clearly worried.

"There's no arrow here."

She gapes at the pillow in perfect condition. "But it—it was right there!"

He sighs and rubs a hand along his face. "Caroline, you're under a lot of stress—"

"I didn't imagine it, dad!" Her eyes start to water and her heart is still racing. She saw it. It was _there_.

"Maybe it was a ghost arrow." Caroline's eyes narrow as she turns around to see Scarlet in the doorway. Then her eyes widen and she lets a gasp.

"Oh my god! The ghosts in our house are trying to kill me!" She slaps her hands over her cheeks and starts hyperventilating.

"Oh for good— Scarlet, she's crazy enough leave her alone. Go read, I can only deal with one of you right now." Scarlet shrugs and leaves. "Carebear," he pulls her hands away from her face. "_Breathe_." She starts taking deep breaths. "There are no ghosts in this house, especially not the ghost of Robin Hood." Caroline laughs softly and shakes the idea out of her head. "Now, do you want a sandwich?"

"Cheese, please."

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"_Obviously_ they tried to kill you." Katherine rolls her eyes. Caroline blinks at her and closes her locker.

"Obviously?"

Katherine gives her a look. "Well, _duh_. They're angry victims who were murdered. They're going to want revenge!"

Caroline tilts her head and hums in agreement. "Oh." They start to walk down the packed hallway, Katherine's heals click-clacking. "Do they think _I_ killed them?"

Katherine makes a noise as if considering it. "I don't know, maybe."

A few more clicks later Caroline speaks again. "How do I tell them that I didn't?" Katherine shrugs. "Helpful." Caroline teases, eyeing a spot on the grass for them to sit. It's an oddly sunny day— considering the weather reported storms approaching.

"Oh! We should have a seance!"

Caroline doesn't think it's a terrible idea— _then_.

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"Do we have to turn out the lights?" Caroline picks at her nail polish nervously. Katherine smirks at her before flicking the switch.

"We have candles, you'll be able to see." Katherine sits down across from Caroline. A circle of candles lay in the middle.

"Yeah, it's just creepy. I mean, I was almost murdered here yesterday."

"Oh, yeah." Katherine frowns and then shrugs, holding out her hands for Caroline to take. Caroline sighs and joins hands with her. "How did you sleep then?"

"Not very well." Caroline flushes. "And in a different bed with a dad at each hip." Katherine sniggers at her and Caroline smiles sheepishly.

"Alright, here we go." Caroline nods and Katherine raises her eyebrows and shakes her head expectantly.

"What?" Caroline furrows her eyebrows.

Katherine sighs dramatically. "Amateur."

Caroline tilts her head and give her a mocking look. "Because you're such an expert at seances."

Katherine grins. "Well, I know more than you do." Katherine then takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Caroline shuts her eyes quickly. "Spirits in Caroline's room, we call upon you!" Katherine groans as Caroline bursts into laughter. "Shut up!" Caroline grins at her then they both close their eyes again. "Spirits of the Mikaelson family, you have suffered a great loss and we wish to help you!"

"Did you steal this from Charmed or something?"

"Don't pay attention to the annoying interrupting blonde, spirits! We are here to help you pass on to the after life." Silence befalls the room. Caroline opens one eye then sighs and relaxes her shoulders in defeat.

"I think they know we don't have a golden ticket." Katherine opens her eyes to glare at Caroline but instead her face pales and she screams. Caroline jumps in shock.

"Katherine! Katherine! What's wrong?" Caroline tries to soothe her but she keeps screaming. "_Katherine_!"

"BEHIND YOU!" Caroline whips around but is faced only with the blackness of the room. She runs over to the light switch and flicks it on. She turns back to a shaking Katherine.

"Katherine?" Caroline whispers softly, edging closer to the brunette.

"It was a—it was a _monster_!" She whispers, pulling herself to her feet using the end bedpost. "It looked like it was about to—" She snaps her head up to Caroline. "I have to get out of here."

"Yeah, yeah." Caroline opens the door and wraps an arm around Katherine's shoulders. "Of course." She glances back once more at the room before closing the door.

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Katherine doesn't come to school the next day.

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"Dad?" Bill puts his newspaper down and looks at his daughter. "Um, I was wondering if you knew the legend behind this house?"

He sighs. "Carebear, there's no ghosts out to kill you."

She shakes her head rapidly. "Yeah, no, I— I have a report for school on it. They thought the subject was close to home." She laughs quietly at her pun.

He studies her for a few seconds before nodding. "All right. Ah, well there was a family—"

"I know the basics but I was wondering about particular details or facts. Like, what the, ah, what the spell did to them— the Mikaelsons, was it? Like, how it affected their physical appearance for example."

"Well, in the story the neighbours report the bodies grey in colour with their veins oddly noticeable. Ah, although the fire burnt most of the body the neighbours made sure that they were dead by staking them to the ground—"

"What? Like staking a vampire?"

"Yeah, some of the neighbours had gone missing days previous and a high positioned woman in the village had a theory that the dead had risen and was sucking the lives out of the villagers because they wanted revenge. So she had them stake the bodies into the ground."

"But why weren't the bodies buried?"

"Because of the father of the family being the previous leader of this village they made their graves inside their own cottage out of respect, him having built the cottage using his own hands."

"So they staked them to the floorboards?"

Bill laughs. "They didn't have floorboards back then, Carebear."

"But, technically, they staked them here. They staked them to _our_ floorboards."

"I suppose you could think of it like that." He smiles softly at her. "But it's only folklore, Caroline." She nods quickly. "Is there anything else?"

"Oh, no, that's— that was helpful, thank you." She gets off of the couch and walks back toward the staircase. After climbing all the steps she heads toward their library to look for a book on how to banish a spirit— heck, she'll take transporting it to the future for someone else to deal with. But, the thing that's bothering her the most is that it's not just _a_ spirit. It's an entire pissed off family, and they've already tried to kill her.

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End file.
